Baby, You're a Rich Man
by Vialana
Summary: Tim understood Bruce better than most people.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from DC Comics featured herein.**

_I'm still not completely caught up with recent cannon, but I thought I'd make a contribution to the fandom again with a slightly sappy father/son-type fic … as sappy as Bruce and Tim could possibly be anyway … or even stable as a father/son pair._

**Baby, You're a Rich Man**

Timothy Drake was born a trust-fund baby. Much as he hated to admit it, being born to different social classes would affect children as they grew up — whatever their situation afterwards. Secretly, it was why he thought he understood Bruce Wayne better than his other sons. According to them anyway.

Dick was never going to settle down in a house with a doting wife, rosy-cheeked children and a dog. It wasn't in his nature — no matter how desperately he wanted it to be. He was born travelling, flying. Romani to his very soul, even if he rarely mentioned his heritage these days. He was the kind of guy who needed a partner — in any sense of the word — who could completely understand that.

Jason would always be striving for a dream and missing too much along the way. Born to nothing but hopes and possibilities, he would always grab at every chance and do everything the best he knew how, but he'd never even think to look and see how any one else could help him reach that dream. Forever out for the best for himself, even when he didn't understand there was even better than what he'd been searching for out there.

Bruce knew their motivations, he did, but understanding their depth and applying his knowledge to a working relationship failed him. Control and stability was something he had grown up with and had needed in order to live his life when he was young. Following rules, living up to expectations, making sure you have a solid base to work from, pacing yourself, knowing when you act, understanding your place in the universe. Things all taught and learned from a young age. He had been told to dream, but what is a dream if it is easily attainable?

Tim could easily understand that, could understand why the only dreams Bruce had were impossible and why he struggled for them anyway. He could easily understand Dick's desperation for freedom, Jason's grasping for the sky. Tim had always known what his limits were and what motivated him. He understood his place in the universe and knew exactly who he was.

Bruce had his world tipped on its head and had been struggling to regain who he was since loosing gravity. Dick had been sure his life had become a cage he needed to fly out from. Jason refused to believe that anything besides his path was important. Tim was just Tim. He had always had confidence in himself — he had doubted his abilities and actions at times, but never doubted that he knew exactly who he was and what he was doing. It was something to inspire and cling to and use to rebuild.

He hadn't told anyone that confidence had started shaking the moment he touched red and green uniform and hadn't stopped since.

That security, that confidence, that assurance that he could always quit once his job was done — all lies. Tim was very good at lying, creating a faux-stability with words and looks that made people smile and strive.

Bruce and Dick and even Jason — they all needed something to hold onto besides themselves. Something that wasn't part of them, something that was family without being _family_. To bounce ideas off and not have to pretend everything was all right, or to bounce and laugh with and tease while allowing vulnerability to show through, or even just as a punching bag for frustration. Embodied therapy.

So he never told them how good he'd gotten at lying to himself.

He never told them that the earthquakes rattling his world had started splitting the earth.

The thing about Bruce, though, that Tim understood better than anyone was why control was so important to him — completely essential to his very being. He had nothing else for himself — his alone, not to be shared with anyone — and so he clung to it. They all had that, and those things they clung to were something they understood better than anything else in the world. Control. Freedom. Hope. Something that came originally from them that they could focus outward upon the world.

That was the part where Tim had broken the rules and had to pay for his mistake. He clung to things outside himself and tried to pull them in, make them stay and he would always fail. Everything he held onto would slip through his fingers, lost to the ether of eternity.

Tim had been falling apart since he tried to first put himself together and he'd lost so many pieces that he couldn't tell what he was supposed to be any more. The world continued turning and Tim felt that sometimes he'd fall right off the edge, spinning away to the far reaches of the universe and he wouldn't care. He just needed something to define him, something to hold onto, something that he could count on to hold back and never let go.

What Tim sometimes forgot about Bruce was that you could never lie to him and get away with it — even if you believed the lie yourself.

So when Tim felt like it was almost time for him to let go and let the world spin him away, Bruce just held out a hand and stared at him long and hard until he put his feet back on the ground and didn't lift them again.

Tim always knew Bruce was a great mentor, even if no one else seemed to understand or appreciate the subtleties he used to communicate his intentions with. But Tim understood. He knew what all that control and strength and aloofness was really trying to say.

He knew, and never forgot, that all Bruce wanted was a life he could be proud of; to point at himself and say, "See, this is me, what I made of myself, I changed the world and made it better, I'm a good person, be proud of me." He wanted to say it even if there wasn't anyone there to listen.

Tim knew what that was like. It was why he didn't let the world spin him away. He believed in that dream too, knew what Bruce strived so hard for it even if others didn't understand how important it was to Bruce. Tim wanted to hope, wanted to dream, wanted to be alive even if it hurt so much sometimes that he wanted to hide away in a crevice until the world ended itself.

So when Bruce held out his hand, Tim grabbed it instantly.

He always knew Bruce would make a great father some day.

Given a second chance, Tim hoped he'd make a good son this time too.


End file.
